Boy Meets Girl
by RonHeartbreaker
Summary: Sure, the friendship only goes back to prek but could the relationship extend back even further? A oneshot birthfic and homage!


This was my first fic, and the positive reaction gave me the confidence to keep writing. In case anybody got an alert (don't know if that happens), I've just fixed up some of the more cringeworthy bits, but it's still the same story.

Disney, of course, owns KP, while Arista Records owns Free to Be You and Me.

* * *

Middleton Medical Center. The neo-natal unit. In adjacent bassinets two small heads, by chance, turn towards each other, and two pairs of eyes – one set a brilliant green, the other a deep brown - flick open simultaneously. 

"Hi!"

"Hi!"

"I'm a baby!"

"Well what do you think I am, a meatcake?"

(Shudders involuntarily) "You could be; what do I know? I'm just born - I'm a baby! I don't even know if I'm in a treehouse or a hospital or what; I'm just so glad to be here!"

"O-kaaay…excitable much?" (Brightly) "I'm a baby too!"

"Ah. An...intruder."

"What are you, scared?"

"Yes I am, I'm a little scared. I'll tell you why." In a slightly hushed voice: "See, I don't know if I'm a boy or a girl yet."

(Pause) "What's that got to do with it?"

"Well, if you're a boy and I'm a girl you can beat me up – you think I want to see my own spleen on my first day alive?!"

"What's a spleen? And how would you know it's even your spleen?"

"Search me - I'm just born! I'm a baby! I don't know nothing yet."

"So…you think you're a girl?"

"I don't know… I think so… Let me take a little look around. Hmmm…Cute feet, small limbs – o-kay, freakishly big hands—but generally dainty, soft skin… yep, yep… I'm one of the la-dies."

"Well, what do you think I am?"

"You? That's easy. You're a boy."

"Gee. I don't feel like a boy."

"That's because you can't see yourself."

"Why? What do I look like?"

"Uh, I'd rather not say. It might…disturb you. But… Hey... what are YOU DOING?!! Stop that! Ok, ok, you win. I'll spill!"

At this a tiny, pouting lower lip tucked itself back in, and barely visible eyebrows returned to their proper position over triumphant green eyes.

"You see, you're…bald. Bald, fella. Bald bald bald. You're bald as a naked mole rat; are you bald!"

"So?"

"So… boys are bald and girls have hair."

"You can't be serious!"

"Um, note serious face.

"But you're bald too!"

"You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not."

"Erk! Don't look! A bald girl! Yech… sick and wrong!"

"So not the drama. Maybe you're a boy and I'm a girl!"

"Baby, baby, baby. There you go again! I told you, I'm a girl. I know it: I'm a girl and you're a boy!"

"I think you're wrong."

"I am never wrong. What about shaving?"

"What about it?"

"You just shaved, right?"

"Wrong."

"Exactly! And you know why? Because everyone's born with a clean shave. It's just that girls keep theirs and boys don't."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. What does that prove?"

"Tomorrow morning, the one that needs a shave, he's a boy."

"Well I can't wait until tomorrow morning."

"See, that proves it! Girls are patient! Boys are impatient."

"Yeah? What else?"

"Cooking. Girls like to cook; boys – no way. And so I ask you: what's the ideal room temperature for baking ingredients?"

Green eyes narrow. "Are you playing me? Who knows that?"

"Pshaw, it's 75 degrees! Though, really, when you cream the butter with the sugar it should be closer to 70… Can you keep a secret?"

"Absolutely."

"There ya go. Boys are way good at keeping secrets - unless, you know," (sheepish grin) "it's something really juicy; but girls aren't."

Furrowed brows over green eyes. "Hrmmph…Go on."

"Are you afraid of bugs?"

"No, no bug issues here."

"I am! I'm terrified of them. I hate them. Creeping…crawling…" (trailing off to a whisper) "everywhere! Let's see… what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A cowboy."

"What did I tell ya!"

"How 'bout you?"

"A ballerina. Does that prove anything to you?!"

(Eye roll) "Hmm. You must be right."

"A-booyah! I am what I is. You're a boy and I'm the girl."

"I guess so. Oh wait! Here comes the nurse to change our diapers."

"About time too. It's really chafing. And I'm hungry! Nurse! I'll have the rice cereal risotto with a dash of formula. And don't skimp on the baby oil!"

After a moment…

"Hey! Look at that!"

"What?"

"You see that? I am a girl – and you're a… boy!"

"Hey… it sure looks like it."

"What do you think of that?"

"Umm…I'm not sure I should look at you… there… for some reason all I can think of are massive G-forces and singularities from which not even light can escape…"

(Pause) "You're weird… but I like you."

"Wow. Well, you really put the "fan" in infantile."

(In an adjacent, third bassinet, a baby girl with almond-shaped aquamarine eyes and a tuft of brown hair waves her little hands in silent disgust and spits up violently all over herself.)

"Well it sure goes to show you."

"What?"

"You can't judge a book by its cover."

"Ha ha ha! But, just in case this other baby next to me didn't quite follow, what does that mean?"

"How should I know? I'm only a baby!"

"So am I. Goo."

"Goo."

First one, then two tiny mouths opened wide, yawning. A pair of emerald green eyes closed, opened again, then slowly shut, their last sight before sleep being the chocolate-brown eyes next door. Her neighbor gazed back at his new "girl" (he was still not entirely convinced) friend for a moment longer, marinating, before drifting off himself.

They slept like babies – which is to say, waking up every two hours crying for their mamas.


End file.
